


The Exception

by janerey



Category: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)
Genre: F/M, Songfic, YAC, youth actors conservatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25751698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janerey/pseuds/janerey
Summary: As Nini prepares to leave for the Youth Actors Conservatory, she and Ricky must face the reality of their separation and what it means for their relationship.--------A songfic based on Olivia Rodrigo's original song "The Exception"
Relationships: Ricky Bowen & Nini Salazar-Roberts, Ricky Bowen/Nini Salazar-Roberts
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally created as a visual fic on Instagram. If you would like to read it as presented, visit me on IG @/dont.not.love.hsmtmts or look up the hashtag: theExceptionFanfic.

"Your hand on my leg under the oil painted sky  
Wind blowing through our hair on the 405  
And traffic's at a standstill, it’s LA what’d you expect?  
We’re listenin to Zeppelin, you're kissing my neck  
You cradle me in your arms in the dark in the back  
We’re looking at the stars and the moon's lit Cheshire cat  
And your parents can probably see you from the window  
They’ll say they’re just kids, oh what the hell do they know

Scared, I love you so much I’m scared  
'Cause they say young love's a loss or it’s a lesson  
Here, I always wanna be here  
My heart is telling me we’re gonna be the exception"

-Olivia Rodrigo


	2. Your Parents Can Probably See You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally created as a visual fic on Instagram. If you would like to read it as presented, visit me on IG @/dont.not.love.hsmtmts or look up the hashtag: theExceptionFanfic.

Ricky is borrowing his dad’s car for the day so that we could take a drive out to the mountains for an early morning hike. I pack a simple lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, apples, trail mix, water, and a thermos of hot cocoa.I figure it would tide us over for a couple hours until we can go grab a bite at our usual diner.My backpack is filling up quickly and I want to leave enough space to tuck away an extra sweater - specifically, Ricky’s red EHS hoodie - for the chilly winter air.

The sun’s purple glow is just starting to peek over the horizon when Ricky’s text comes in.

>   
>    
>  **_Ricky:OMW be at your place in a few.Can’t wait to spend the day with you, Beautiful!_ **

I tuck my phone into the front pocket of my bag, a content smile still lingering unconsciously on the corner of my lips.  
  
“You headed out soon?”

Startled, I look up at Mama D, still clad in her floral bathrobe, her eyes puffy with sleep.

“Yeah,” I reply, avoiding eye contact with her. “Ricky’s on his way to pick me up now.”

She doesn’t say anything at first, but her sigh is full of meaning.I watch her groggily grab a mug from the cupboard and load the Keurig with a coffee pod.I love my moms, but between the two of them, Mama D definitely plays the passive aggressive card in a way that gets under my skin.I shouldn’t care.I’m grown enough to make decisions about my own relationships.Especially after all that Ricky and I had been through the last 5 months.I think I know by now what I want and what I am capable of handling.

“Do you really think this is a good idea?” she finally says over the sound of the coffee machine’s gurgles. “It’s just going to make it that much harder on you - on _both_ of you - when you leave to Denver.”

I throw my backpack over my shoulder even though I know Ricky won’t get to my house for another ten minutes or so, but I’m trying to end this conversation that we’ve already had before.

“Mom,” I say, trying my best to scale back any trace of defiance in my voice. “I know you’ve always told me not to go to college with a boyfriend.But YAC isn’t college. And Ricky and I just got back together.Is it so bad to just want to spend whatever time we have left together?”

Her lips are pursed as thin as her patience with me.

“Nini, honey, you know I love Ricky like a son.You two have been friends forever and I do hope it always stays that way.” Mama D pauses to take her cup out of the machine. “But your youth shouldn’t be spent _waiting_.Long distance rela-“

“Long distance relationships are hard,” I interject. “I know.But if there’s anything I learned from you and Mama C, is that love is work but it’s worth the effort.”

I see her expression melt.She nods in defeat, but I know she still worries that trying to keep up a long distance relationship will take away my attention from school.Or that it will hold me back from fully embracing and experiencing my new chapter.She’s said as much to me in the past, and even more so in the last three weeks since getting into YAC.

“Would you rather I turn my attention to dating someone in Denver?” I ask, teasingly. “I might never come home.”

A smirk breaks through her concerned expression.She nudges my shoulder so I at least know I’m not leaving the house with tension between us.My phone chimes again with Ricky’s assigned tone.I don’t even check it before I start heading towards the front door to put on my boots.

“I’ll be back this afternoon,” I promise Mama D.


	3. Traffic's at a Standstill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the update delay. I do have the story finished, but I've just been forgetting to update on here. The story is posted on my instagram with all the graphics, so if you'd like the full visual experience, my insta is @dont.not.love.hsmtmts

The highway is practically a parking lot for a Saturday morning. I might expect it on a weekday commute, but this is completely unexpected. I reach behind my seat, patting around for my backpack and finding a sticky ketchup packet instead. I drop it with a look of disgust, which Ricky notices. He laughs, but offers an apology for his dad’s poor cleaning habits.

“He’s definitely reverted back to bachelor mode since my mom left.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing you have me around to remind you to hang up your towels and flush the toilet,” I tease, wiping my fingers with some dusty Kleenex.

“Not for long,” he returns matter of factly.

I know he doesn’t mean anything by it, but the obvious parallels between Lynn and myself are hard not to take personally, especially after our fight at Ashlyn’s on Thanksgiving. I go back to searching for my bag.

“I… just… need… my….” I struggle to say as I contort myself between the front seats until my fingers finally tug on the strap. “Uf. Phone.”

“Baby, I’m sorry. I hope you don’t think I-“

“Ricky, it’s fine,” I reassure him then quickly change the subject. “I wonder what’s causing all this traffic. Let me check Waze and see how far this goes. I’m worried it’ll be late by the time we get to the trail.”

He moves his hand from the shifter to my knee, and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m not in any rush.” He smiles, big enough for his dimples to show, but his eyes look so deeply at me, they’re almost desperate. “As long as you’re with me, I’ve got all day.”

I put my phone down to lace my fingers with his. I lean in and press a kiss to his cheek. We’re still at a complete stop, so Ricky reciprocates. I study this moment and back it up to my memory. The sensation of Ricky’s breath as he trails soft kisses down my neck. The weight of his hand resting on my lap. The rhythm of the other casually drumming the bottom of the steering wheel to Led Zeppelin’s “Since I’ve Been Loving You” playing on whatever preset station Mike left his radio. The sunrise in the rearview mirror is chasing away the cotton candy colors to make way for its radiant warmth. I’m compelled to savor every detail.

We always imagined moments like this. Even before we were ever dating, we would daydream about our senior year, driving around town to get food or go to the movies. Ricky had barely gotten his driver’s license this past summer while I was away at Theatre Camp. Without a car of his own, his skateboard is still his transportation of choice. This is the first time I have ridden alone with him. I thought feeling so grown up would be liberating, but now it feels almost stifling.

Panic seeps in and my mind is scrambling to hit the pause button. I’m not ready. I’m not ready to grow up. I’m not ready to move. I’m not ready to say goodbye.


	4. They Say 'They're Just Kids'

“Oh my gosh, Ricky, you’re going to fall! Please get down!” I plead with him to come down from the precariously thin tree branch he was perching himself on trying to hang up string lights. I told him I wanted to spend my last night in Utah hanging out with the whole group, so he arranged a little bonfire in his backyard. 

I just finished packing all my things up this morning then my moms treated me to sushi for lunch. I came straightaway to the Bowens’ house afterwards to help Ricky, but hadn’t expected him to go all out like this.

His long legs dangle over my head briefly before he drops himself down the 6 foot clearance eliciting a scream from my lungs.

“I’m gonna kill you,” I say, crossing my arms with mock resentment, backhanding him on the chest. “If you don’t do it first.”

“Admit it, you’re gonna miss this,” he banters with labored breath and a shit-eating grin.

“What? You doing something stupid and me trying to stop you?”

His arms snake around my waist and I don’t fight it. I slide my hands up until my fingers are buried in his curls.

“Precisely.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “And me pushing you to take more risks.”

That about sums up Ricky’s and my entire history. We didn’t always have a lot in common, but we were complements to one another. Yin and Yang. 

I help unfold all the chairs and space them around the fire pit while Ricky finishes clipping up the white sheet that will serve as a movie screen onto a rope line. He takes the end of the string lights and plugs it into an extension cord. His face lights up with the bulbs.

“Tada!” he says proudly. I nod approvingly, excited for the evening’s planned festivities. “So…”

“So…” I echo, leaning back into his chest as we continue to admire all the work Ricky put into it. “What time does everyone get here?”

He nuzzles his face into my neck and responds with a muffled, “In about an hour.”

“And your dad?” I continue to prod.

He pulls back and looks at me like he suspects where I’m going with my line of questioning.

“Same.”My eyebrows waggle flirtatiously at him. “Want to make out for a while?” 

I barely finish my proposal before my boyfriend grabs me by the hand and makes a beeline for house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally created as a visual fic on Instagram. If you would like to read it as presented, visit me on IG @dont.not.love.hsmtmts or look up the hashtag: theExceptionFanfic.


	5. I Always Wanna Be Here

“Why is Denver called the ‘Mile High City’?” EJ asks. “Is it really a mile high?”

“Yup! Exactly a mile above sea level,” I reply. My eyes roll back into my head as I take a bite from my second slice of the veggie lover’s pizza Big Red brought from his parents’ shop. “Red, you’re going to have to overnight me a pizza once a week. I can’t go the whole semester without it.”

“I don’t think the 30 minute guarantee covers Colorado. How about I just promise you a free pizza every time you visit,” he counters. “That way you always have an excuse to come back.”

Pizza is definitely low on my list of reasons to come back. As I look at the faces gathered around the fire pit, I am surrounded by reasons to come back. No. Reasons not to leave. I don’t even feel the onset of my tears coming up before I find myself hiccuping as I sob uncontrollably.

“Babe?” Ricky attempts to console me. His hands rub up and down my arms, and he pushes aside the hair sticking to my tear-soaked face.

Everyone has left their seat and gathers around me trying to offer words of encouragement. I feel Ricky flailing his arms around which somehow prompts Kourtney to run off to find something in her purse. Gina signals for everyone to go back to their seats, and I’m effectively distracted from my emotional meltdown.

The next thing I know, music is blaring from the portable speaker and Kourtney is up on her feet.

_“Ain’t no mountain high, ain’t no valley low, ain’t no river wide enough baby!”_ she sings, channeling her inner Marvin Gaye.

_“If you need me call me no matter where you are,”_ Seb links his arm with mine and pantomimes a phone on his ear. _“No matter how far.”_

_“Don’t worry, baby.”_ When Ashlyn rises from her lawn chair, I am certain this is a choreographed flashmob. _“Just call my name I'll be there in a hurry. You don't have to worry!”_

And just like that, everyone - including me - is dancing and singing around the fire pit, _“'Cause baby there ain't no mountain high enough! Ain’t no valley low enough! Ain't no river wide enough! To keep me from getting to you, babe!”_

They all take turns singing to me. Even though we’re all laughing and dancing around like crazy people, I am overwhelmed with the promise that all my friends would truly be there for me no matter the distance.

Ricky’s hand slips into mine and he turns me to face him as he sings, _“My love is alive, way down in my heart although we are miles apart. If you ever need a helping hand, I’ll be there on the double, just as fast as I can!”_

Despite the upbeat rhythm of the song, he and I spend the remainder of it wrapped up in each other’s arms, swaying slowly to savor the moment. When the song finally comes to an end, the whole gang huddles around us in a big group hug.

“So, as it turns out,” Ricky tells me. “Randomly breaking out into song and dance is totally realistic!”

“Ricky Bowen, are you officially a musical theatre nerd?” Big Red asks incredulously.

Everyone laughs at Ricky’s blushing face.

“No, no,” he declines. “That was a one time deal.”

“Wait,” I say over the murmurs of disbelief. “You’re not going to join theatre next semester?”

Ricky shrugs. “I mean, I was doing it for you. If you’re not here, then I don’t really see the point.”

“If you don’t stay in theatre, then I guess I’m out too?” Big Red says disappointedly.

“So if Nini’s not here,” Kourtney comes to the realization. “Does that mean I don’t belong in the crew either?”

“Okay, stop! That’s just crazy talk,” Carlos interjects. “The point is that you’re all a part of this family now.”

The group emphatically agrees.

I sit in silence wondering if it hurts more to know my three closest friends don’t feel at home or that they will get along perfectly fine without me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally created as a visual fic on Instagram. If you would like to read it as presented, visit me on IG @dont.not.love.hsmtmts or look up the hashtag: theExceptionFanfic.


	6. Young Love's a Loss...

We watch The Notebook on the projector screen - per my request. Even though everyone else complains that it would put them to sleep, it is me who ends up dozing off halfway through the film after the eventful day I had. I only wake when the end credits are scrolling to find Ricky and I are alone under the bright crescent moon. Everyone else is already gone.

I gingerly untuck myself from Ricky’s embrace. The constant hum of his snores assures me I’m safe to sneak off to the house to use the restroom without disturbing him. When I slide open the backdoor, I am surprised to find Ricky’s dad still up. He appears to be sorting out boxes of personal items. He looks startled to see me.

“Nini! Sorry, you guys seemed so peaceful out there, no one had the heart to wake you up.”

“It’s ok.” I shrug and blink a few times until my eyes have adjusted to the lights. “What’s with the packing? You look like me.”

“Oh, yeah, this…” he draws it out, hesitant to explain. He looks past me towards the back door, perhaps checking to see if Ricky would be following behind me. “I finally filed the divorce papers yesterday.”

“ _You_ did?”

“I know. I surprised myself a little too.” Mike pauses briefly, clearly in deep thought. “But I think seeing Lynn with Todd and seeing her happy, I realized it was time to let her go. She’s got a whole other life out there that I’m not a part of. She’s moved on. And I’m not really being fair to myself or Ricky holding out hope and putting my life on hold.”

I feel his words hit the pit of my stomach like a boulder. When Ricky saw his mom and dad sitting in the audience at the the play, when we stopped for ice cream with his parents before the Ashlyn’s after party. There was so much childish hope in his eyes. Mike was right. Ricky was holding out hope for his parents’ reconciliation because his dad was too.

Mr. Bowen picks up a shoebox and peeks inside, chuckling ironically at what he finds. He reaches in the box and shows me a photo of him and Ricky’s mom in college.

“Wow, you looked a lot like Ricky back then. I never realized you had wavy hair too!”

“I’ve never had quite the curls that he has, but they do their thang if I let them. Think I should grow them out?”

I look down at the photo once more and wince.

“Umm…”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t.” He put the photo back in the box, staring at all its content one last time before closing it up and adding it to the pile of discarded memories. “Live and learn, Nini, live and learn!”

“We all make mistakes,” I laugh.

“But the important part is learning from it, right?” He pauses and stares at the discard thoughtfully. “Even loss love can be a lesson.”

“Do you want to be alone to finish this up? I feel like maybe you need a moment to, like, Marie Kondo all of this. I can wake up Ricky to take me home.” 

“Thanks, Nini. I gotta say, I’m really gonna miss having you around.” Mike gives me a tight squeeze goodbye.

“Keep Ricky out of trouble for me, would ya?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally created as a visual fic on Instagram. If you would like to read it as presented, visit me on IG @dont.not.love.hsmtmts or look up the hashtag: theExceptionFanfic.


	7. ...Or It's a Lesson

Today is the day. It feels like it has taken forever to get to this day, but also a blink of an eye. I don’t think one is ever fully prepared to say goodbye to their family, friends, and the only home they’ve ever known. Mama D and Lola are going to be making the drive out to Denver to take me to school. Mama C decided to save her vacation days to visit me in a few weeks, so that I would have someone with me after the homesickness has kicked in.

My mind is racing a million miles a minute as my conversation with Ricky’s dad plays over and over again in my head. Ricky walks into the kitchen, his curls disheveled from just waking up and heading straight here to see me off. He kisses my cheek then steals the spoonful of oatmeal that was already on its way to my mouth.

“Hey!” I object before offering him a second bite which he takes without hesitation. “Good morning.”

“Is it?” he asks. 

Neither of us can deny the cloud of sadness looming over our heads. He’s been doing his best to keep a positive disposition and smiling face about it, but it’s no mystery that the charade is all for my sake. This is Ricky’s way of pushing me to take risks. He does everything in his power to reassure me that it would be okay. This is how he got me to stick up to Kylie Freeman on the playground in third grade, how he got me ride Demon’s Destiny in seventh, and how he got me to audition for Beauty and the Beast freshmen year.

I clear my dishes, and start collecting the last of my things that I’ll be taking to YAC. Ricky takes the duffle bag from my shoulder and follows me out to the porch. My stomach is in knots. I know what comes next, but I can barely even look at him. I focus my eyes, instead, on the scuff mark on the toe of my boot.  
“Ricky, I -“ my voice hitches in my throat. He takes my hand in his and lifts my chin to look at him, but I won’t. “Ricky… this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

“But you can do it, Nini. I believe in you.” 

I shake my head because this isn’t what he thinks and I feel like the worst person in the world for what I am about to say.

“We have to break up,” I finally blurt out. He’s stunned, and we both stand there in awkward silence until I get the nerve to explain. “W-we just can’t be in a long distance relationship. It’s n-not going to work.”

“I don’t understand.” He steps back and stares back at me with furrowed brows. 

“I’m so sorry,” is all I can manage.

“I’ve done nothing but support you. I put all my feelings aside so I wouldn’t hold you back,” he contends, his eyes glazing with welled up tears. "I was trying to make this work.”

“That’s the thing, Ricky. I don’t want you to spend the rest of your high school years putting your feelings aside for my sake! It’s not fair to you. I don’t want to give you false hope.”

“What false hope? This is real, Nini. We’re the real thing.”

I can’t say anymore otherwise I will take it all back. So it takes every ounce of resolve to kiss his tear-soaked cheek then scurry to the car. Thankfully, both Mama D and Lola know not to say a word to me. The car pulls slowly away from the driveway and I take one last look back at Mama C blowing a subtle kiss to me as she cradles Ricky to her shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was really short. Due to the format and slide limit of the visual version on Instagram, I had to keep chapters fairly short.
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts! Leave some comments!


	8. Epilogue Part A: My Heart is Telling Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was my most favorite to make as a visual (and audio fic), so if you have an instagram, do yourself a favor and read this chapter there! Look up the hashtag "TheExceptionFanfic"

“I appreciate everyone coming out. If you don’t know me already, my name is Nini. Now that you’re all warmed up, I’ve got one more song to get this show on the road. This one is an original song I wrote called ‘Paygrade.’”

When my set finishes, the bar crowd claps emphatically and I step down to slip back into my apron. As I approach a serious-looking trio seated in the farthest corner of the bar, one of gentlemen waves me over and pats the vacant chair besides him. Even after working at this bar since I turned 21 last year, I still have not become comfortable with patron advances, so I simply stand behind the chair and greet them professionally.

“Hello, can I get you something to drink? An appetizer, perhaps?”

He tells me that he’s a music producer always looking for new talent. Living in Los Angeles, that is nothing new to hear. Sometimes it’s a music producer or acting scout, sometimes a modeling agent. They’re a dime a dozen here.

“I’d love for you to come by the studio to record some demos of your original songs. I can’t promise you a record deal or anything, but I think you have an incredible talent for songwriting. At the very least, I think we could pitch your work to other established artists. If you’d be down for that.”

I nod and smile politely and slip the business card he hands me into my pocket to toss out later. When I get home that evening, I empty the contents of my pockets onto my desk. It was a great night for tips. In the midst of a celebratory dance, my eye catches the card from that so-called music producer. This time, something tells me to look up his name before I throw it away. After a quick Google search, it turns out that “Aaron Fletch” is a legitimate producer with quite an impressive resume. My celebration dance resumes, only this time it’s accompanied by a high pitched squeal.

I immediately grab the hot pink notebook from my drawer where I have five years’ worth of songs I’ve written. I scour the pages trying to narrow down my strongest pieces. It takes me all evening to curate a short list of three songs - one upbeat girl power song, one slow love song, and one mid-tempo song about the city. The following week, I head to the recording studio as planned. I leave extra early because I know the 405 South is going to be a mess. I arrive at the studio with a half hour to spare, and I’m grateful for the bit of extra time to fix my makeup and tweak the songs a bit.

One song in particular that I had written back in high school could definitely use a little updating. I open my notebook to the page tabbed with a yellow post it note. I read through the lyrics a few more times, crossing out a couple lines that I felt needed to be improved. The air starts to get thick and hot in the car, so I grab my things and make my way into the studio.

The receptionist guides me into one of the recording booths and informs me that the production team would be in soon to give me further instructions. I open my book again, trying to familiarize myself with the new lyrics. As the words stare back at me, the memories attached to them do too. I wrote this the day I arrived at YAC. The more I remember about the events and the feelings that inspired this song, the more protective I feel over it. What if I record it and they give it to another artist? Someone who didn’t live through it. Someone who doesn’t even know me. It’s five years later, but it is still _my_ story to tell.

I don’t have a lot of time to mull it over. I see Aaron and another woman enter the control room. They gesture for me to put on the headphones where they prattle off a few more instructions. I situate myself in front of the keyboard, running a few test scales before giving them a thumbs up to begin. Even with my notebook propped up, I can still see their faces behind the glass in front of me. The first chord I play is already wrong.

“I-I’m sorry,” I say nervously. “Can I start over?”

Aaron nods and I try again.

“Your hand on my leg, under the oil painted sky,” I sing, closing my eyes so I don’t have to look at my all-important audience. “Wind blowing through our hair as time passes by-“

I stop abruptly. Aaron presses a button and I hear his voice through my headphones, “Is something the matter, Nini?”

“I apologize. I sang the wrong lyrics. I-I’m just a little nervous, sorry.”

“How about we turn off our lights and you just forget that we’re even here?” the woman says through the speaker.

I nod at that idea, hoping it would put my anxiety to rest then try one more time.

"Your hand on my leg under the oil painted sky   
Wind blowing through our hair on the 405   
And traffic's at a standstill, it’s LA what’d you expect?   
We’re listenin' to Zeppelin, you're kissing my neck   
You cradle me in your arms in the dark in the back   
We’re looking at the stars and the moon's lit Cheshire cat   
And your parents can probably see you from the window   
They’ll say they’re just kids, oh what the hell do they know

Scared, I love you so much I’m scared   
'Cause they say young love's a loss or it’s a lesson   
Here, I always wanna be here   
My heart is telling me we’re gonna be the exception."

I nail it on the third take, but I get so caught up in this song I haven’t performed since I was 17, that my eyes are welling up with tears. The voices in my headset seem extremely pleased and I breathe a huge sigh of relief. When the lights in the control room flicker back on, there are now three people in the room.

“Rich?” Aaron’s voice echoes in my headphones. “Hey, Richie? Are you going to hand us our coffees or just stand there staring?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear your thoughts! Leave me a comment!


	9. Epilogue Part B: We're Gonna Be the Exception

I exit in such a hurry that I bump into several instruments on the way to the door. I don’t get any further than the hallway, bracing myself on the wall and forcing myself to breathe. Slumping down to steady myself on the floor, I hear footsteps running around the corner and slowing down as they get closer. 

“Nini?” The voice is deeper than I remember, but it is still nostalgic and familiar. The last time I heard that voice say my name was the one time I called him from Denver. He answered, his voice so hopeful that I just hung up without a word. 

I feel him slide down to the floor beside me, and I finally look up at him. My Ricky. Just slightly more filled in. Stubble on his chin. But the same moppy head of curls. The same gentle, if not slightly confused, expression. Even the subtle mix of Irish Spring soap and Throb cologne brings me back. It takes an incredible amount of self-discipline to not reach up and touch his face just to be sure he’s really there.

“What are you doing here?” we both ask in unison. We laugh at our synchronicity, and that eases the tension.

“Aaron saw me at work and offered me a chance to record some demos. He thinks he could pitch my songs to some artists,” I explain to Ricky. “I know, it’s stupid. My stuff’s not that great.”

He looks at me incredulously. 

“Nini! That’s a big deal! Fletch knows good music. If he says your work is good, that means it’s better than good.” His face breaks out into a huge smile before he adds, “Trust me. I’m in the ‘industry.’”

I skeptically raise my eyebrows at his use of air quotes with the word “industry.”

“Okay, I’m an intern here,” he admits. “Which is really just an official term for ‘glorified coffee fetcher’ but every now and then, I get to work on some tracks with him.”

My mouth drops open. “What?! That’s amazing. How did you even end up here in L.A.?”

Ricky briefs me on his stint at college in Chicago. He was majoring in music technology when a professor of his introduced Ricky and some of his work to a producer friend who immediately offered an internship with Mr. Fletch. Ricky quit school mid-semester and moved to California eight months ago. 

“Nini,” the woman from the control room approaches us. “Someone else is gonna need the studio in about ten minutes. We’ll have to reschedule your other demos.”

“Um,” Ricky interrupts. “Shana, can I just maybe work with her in the other sound room? I know it’s not as state of the art, but I think I can work it out with the program I’m working on.”

She rolls her eyes before turning back down the hall. “Yeah, whatever. But we’re not paying you to spill my coffee and flirt with the talent, Rich!”

“You’re not paying me at all, Shana!” Ricky calls after her, and we both snort with laughter.

“You enjoying this?” I ask taking Ricky’s outstretched hand to pull myself up. “This job?”

One side of his lip turns up shyly. “Yeah. I mean, it’s not a career yet, but I’m working on it.”

“I still can’t believe you just quit school and moved across the country.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Hey, sometimes you gotta take risks. It brought us both here, didn’t it?”

Ricky escorts me to a small room with the bare minimum equipment. I stand aside, waiting for him to shuffle some cables around and plug things into their proper places. This older, more confident Ricky Bowen leaves me awestruck. He has come a long way from the guy who just coasted through life. As he approaches me with a set of headphones, his fingers gingerly tuck my hair behind my ears before he places the device on me. Something did bring us both here to this place and time. There is no denying that. Yet after four years living in LA, this is the first time it has ever felt like… home. In that moment, I feel compelled to take another leap.

“It was about you, you know,” I admit out of the blue. “That song. I-I don’t know how much of it you heard of it, but I just thought I’d tell you that.”

He makes a face I’ve seen before like a deer in headlights. Just like the last time I wrote a song for him. I half expect him to run out the door and leave me here again.

“Yeah, I kinda figured.” He scratches the back of his neck nervously. “Listen, it took me a really long time to get over you - us, I mean. And I think I’m in a good place in my life right now. A really good place.”

“Of course,” I nod, swallowing back my regret. “I didn’t mean -“

“But for you, Nini,” he continues, stepping in even closer to me. “I’ll always make an exception.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, the end! Hope you liked it. I know it was kind of short for a multichapter fic. I had edited it down so many times to fit into instagram. 
> 
> I'm working on some outtakes from Ricky's POV, so stay tuned!


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